Bert's Breaking Story
by Harun85
Summary: Bert stumbles on Midas dumping chemicals in his favorite fishing hole, and investigates.


2010-11-29 - Bert's Breaking Story

NOTE: Found this old thing while saving a failing HDD. If I can find the rest, I'll upload it.

The Evergreen Forest. Quiet, Peaceful, Serene... At least for most of its residents. Today, Bert Raccoon finds himself stuck behind a desk because he neglected his editing duties for the Evergreen Standard. With such a beautiful day outside, he wants to go fishing. However, Ralph has stayed behind to make sure he gets his work done.

"Come on, Ralph. I already told you, I'm fresh out of ideas!" Bert waved his finger at his white-scarfed friend. "Besides, I can't think in here... It's too stuffy!" Bert looked into a filing cabinet, pretending to search for something.

"Hey, Bert." Ralph said.

Bert looked up and turned to him. "Yeah?"

"Ouch!" Bert yelped as Ralph kicked the filing cabinet closed, slamming Bert's tail inside.

"Write about that!" Ralph said.

His friend laughed at him as he removed his tail. "I see you don't have a problem with having fun today!" Bert said as he massaged his tail.

"I'm not the one who hasn't written anything all week. Remember when Melissa and I asked you if you wanted to stay last night and help with our story? You didn't want to." He drew out the 'you' as long as possible. He was stopped when Bert put his hand over Ralph's mouth.

The raccoon smiled, and looked out the window at the blue sky that was teasing him. "For your information..." Bert took a similar tone. "I went with Cedric to the movies."

"...How productive." Ralph said.

Bert flailed his arms around. "It was great! The monster was this big!" He rubbed his chin before leaning in, to whisper in Ralph's ear. "Say, old buddy, you don't think we need a-"

"Movie critic? Nope." The door was shut on that idea, but Bert thought he would try something else to speed up his chances of getting to the lake with Bentley. He pondered about what he might do to send Ralph off for the day.

"Say, did you hear about the-"

"The story your trying to distract me with? Yeah, I have, and it's boring!" Bert felt himself being pushed back into the chair. "You need to grow up, Bert. Bentley's only 12, and he's looking for a summer job. You're what, 27, 28? And he's still happier than you are right now!" Ralph slid a piece of paper into Bert's typewriter, condemning the raccoon to his chair.

Bert thumped his fist down on the table. "I'm not immature!"

"Then prove it to us. Write a report by the time I get back!"

Bert frowned at hearing this. "'Us'?"

Ralph placed a dictionary by Bert's typewriter. "You don't think I'm the only one, do you? Well, there's Melissa, and George, and Nicole, and-"

Bert raised the dictionary at Ralph, like a weapon. "And why would I care about Lisa's parents?"

Ralph took the dictionary from Bert. "Because Lisa is staying with 'Lisa's parents'. And you don't want to get on your mother-in-law's bad side... Trust me."

Well, he couldn't argue with Ralph on that one. Bert thumped the table again, this time, hearing a loud 'ding' from the typewriter. "I don't know why we use these dumb things... The only time Little Bert'll get to see one of these will be in a museum!"

Ralph was walking to the door, when he turned back to Bert. "I don't think we need that kind of publicity at the Standard, Bert..." Ralph said.

Bert flexed his muscles. "What're you talking about. Little Bert's gonna grow up, big and strong!"

Ralph stood opposite him. "I can name three things wrong with that." He put a fist to Bert's face. "One," Ralph said, poking the raccoon in the face. "Exhibitionism is illegal. Two, you need a girlfriend before there's a 'Little Bert'. And three..."

Bert bit Ralph's exposed finger. "And what?" Bert said through his teeth. It was time to get rid of these distractions. "Keep talking, and you'll only have three fingers left!"

He started to push Ralph towards the door. "And three, newspapers will never go out of style!" Bert slammed the door in Ralph's face, and turned back to the desk.

"You'd better give me a story when I get back!" Ralph was waving at him through the window.

"I will!" Bert wanted to throw the typewriter at his friend, if it would shut him up.

Bert sighed as he looked around the office. It was too stuffy today. He decided on some fresh air before he started the report.

* * *

The sun was out, and Bert heard at least five types of birds as he walked along the special trail Ralph had shown him last week. The trail was special to him, because he planned to show it to Lisa soon. Legend had it - at least the legend as told by an inebriated Ralph to a once-again rejected Bert - was the trail did wonders for relationships. His red-cheeked friend told him of the first time he took Melissa along.

The trail, even without the legend, was still very special. A blue bed of flowers covered the ground in the summertime, and the small ring gave Evergreen's denizens just enough challenge for a quick jog, if they wanted. He smiled as he saw a bird take off from a tree high above him. The flowers met him at either side of the path, which was worn down to allow for bikes and other travelers.

As he walked, he worried Lisa might not come along tonight, or the entire weekend. All his plans were ruined by the report he had to produce out of thin air. He was stuck, and all Bert thought about was time, which went slowest when he wanted it to hurry. Bert made his way off the trail, and onto the main road. He coughed as a small truck passed by him. Dust cleared, and he saw the letters 'SMS' on its side. The truck looked like one of the old clunkers Mister Willow kept by the General Store. Perhaps Willow needed some quick money.

Bert needed a story, and he needed one soon. "I wonder what Mister Sneer is doing with that truck..." Bert said. "Maybe I can write about that."

The reporter hit on an idea. He would stop off at Sneer Mansion when he was done playing with Bentley, to get his story. Perfect!

* * *

"Morning, Nicole. Is Lisa in?" Nicole hit Bert on the shoulder, then mockingly put her hands over her ears.

"She's up in her room, if you can stand the noise."

"Thanks!" Bert peeked into the living room to say hello to George. There was something different about their abode today, however. The large couch in one corner was gone, as well as the coffee table in the middle of their living room. "Morning, George! You guys moving again?"

The chef squeezed his paper, and regarded Bert for a second. "We're getting new furniture." His tone lacked its usual cheeriness.

"That's nice. Well, see you later!" Bert started in the direction of Lisa's room. He wanted to talk with her this morning, and go play with Bentley before he had to get his story ready. He ascended the stairs, and, like magic, heard the two siblings at each others throats.

"I don't want to!" The young Raccoon boy, dressed in a blue buttoned down shirt shouted at his taller sister. His big sister, standing above him, pressed her hand on his face. He could not move. Bert giggled at this, as he had seen her do this to Bentley many times before. Height did have its advantages.

"Hey, Lisa!" Bert said. Lisa turned from him, and screamed.

"Bentley!" She wiped her hand on his shirt.

"That's what you get!" Bentley stuck his tongue out at her.

"So, what's the problem?" Bert asked.

"Mister Grumpy won't go find a job." Lisa said.

"I'm not grumpy! I'm just nervous!" Bentley said.

An idea came to Bert. "I'll be back in a second, let me talk with your sister, okay?"

"That hasn't been proven that she's my sister." Bentley said. "Look at those feet! She's an ogress who killed my real sister!"

Lisa grabbed Bentley by the shirt collar and shoved him into his room. "Now stay in there!" She grabbed the doorknob, ready to slam the door, when Bentley took the initiative and caught her fingers in the door.

Bert laughed at seeing this. Sibling rivalry was such an entertaining sport. "You're not helping!" Lisa said. Bert came over to her and took her hand.

"Well maybe I can do something about that." He smirked, and brought her hand up to his lips. Lisa hit him on the shoulder. "I got something I want to ask you." He said.

Lisa's room was a mess, to put it nicely. Toto played on her boom box, and Bert saw her curtains swaying in the breeze. "So, what'd you want to talk about?" Lisa brought Bert over to a chair, while she plopped down on her bed.

"Well, I wanted to know what you were doing this weekend." Bert tried to look directly at her, but she was looking around the room.

"Oh..." Lisa said. "This weekend's not a good time." She said. Lisa stood up and looked over to her window. The tunes in the air seemed to control her emotion.

"What about tonight?" Bert asked.

"Sorry, I'm going out tonight with a friend."

Bert got up from the chair. "Well, what about Saturday night?"

"Nope." Lisa said. "I'm going out with Donna on Saturday. She got tickets for a show in Hamilton." Of all his luck, Bert thought, this weekend was sucked up by other people's desires.

Perhaps now would be a great time to change the subject. "So, you must be excited about getting new furniture, I mean you just got the ol-"

"Bert!" Her voice pierced through the air. She had her back to him, still looking out the window. Her hand came to her face, and she looked like she was crying. Bert came to her side.

"I'm sorry, Lisa, I didn't mean-" She stopped him again. This time, putting a finger to his lips. He could hear the tone in her voice, the pain in her pulse. Her face turned red. "What's wrong, Lisa?"

"It's nothing, really. Dad's just..."

"Just what?"

"You know what? I think I'll be able to see you Sunday night after Donna and I get back from the concert. You wanna meet up then?"

"Sure, if you want."

A pounding came at the door. "Bentley!" she turned again a 180-, from a sweet worried raccoon to a monstrous angry beast. She ran to the door and flung it open, but instead of Bert's eyes, she met her mother's. "Hey, mom..."

"Bert." Nicole said. "Lisa and I need to talk, can you take Bentley out today?"

"Sure. I was coming over to see if he wanted to go fishing."

"That's great." Nicole said. "Just bring him back before dark, okay?"

"Sounds good!" Evergreen's beauty called, and he had a lot to teach Bentley about fishing.

* * *

The boy shrugged and caught up with Bert. "Not really. I don't want to get a job right now. It's too nice outside." Bert's thoughts exactly. However, Bert remembered when he was younger, he had the same feelings Bentley had.

Maybe he could help Bentley find a job... Or write an article about Bentley looking for a job! The raccoon's grin widened. "Say, tell you what, little buddy, I'll help you look for a job, how's that sound?" He grinned ear to ear, and hoped Bentley wouldn't see through his ruse.

The boy smiled back at him. "Gee, that sounds great Bert! It'd be a big help!"

"So..." Bert began, "What do you like doing?"

Bert removed his notebook to take a few notes. "What're you doing, Bert?" Bentley asked.

"Oh, this? I'm making a few notes so I can look in the papers tonight!"

This satisfied the boy, and the two continued their way to the lake. Bert imagined it would not be hard to get a few more details out of Bentley, and then go home and write the article. A few pages would be laid out on Ralph's desk by midnight, and he could laugh in his friend's face the next morning. Bert thought he was so clever.

It was a beautiful day, and Bert held out the tackle box for Bentley to lure up his fishing pole. "So, you like computers, I know that much..." Bert said.

"I don't wanna talk about it, right now, Bert. Let's just have fun fishing. We can do that stuff tomorrow." His plan seemed in jeopardy. He needed to get more information about Bentley's plans, or Bert would have to travel all the way to Sneer Mansion today.

"Come on, little budd-"

"Stop calling me 'little buddy', Bert. I'm 12." Bert chuckled. It was true. Bentley was not so little anymore. In fact, as Bert took in a deep whiff of the air, that fact became apparent to him.

Bert sniffed the air. A terrible stench loomed. "Hey, Bentley." Bert said. He stopped as the two neared the lake. He was a growing boy, and perhaps he didn't yet have the talk. What would be the best way to tell him? He scratched his ear, and saw Bentley looking at him.

Bert started walking again. "Did you take a bath today?" Bentley's expression didn't change much. Instead, the boy socked Bert in the arm. What was that horrid odor? The raccoon let loose a chuckle, to show there were no bad feelings. "I thought that was you!" Bentley laughed as Bert took in the air again.

The two made their way down the path to the docks. "I'm just checkin'..." Bert said. Beaver Bite Swamp was the only other place he had smelled something so bad. Bert stumbled over a rock.

"Here, get a good whiff!" Bert fought with Bentley as the boy's underarm came toward his face. The elder raccoon's fingers came up to tickle him, and soon Bentley fell on the ground, laughing.

* * *

-The two boys see a truck labeled 'SMS' approaching the lake. Bert hides, and notices Milton Midas among the crew.

* * *

It would be easier if Bentley never had to know of such people, but, sadly, this was the world he lived in. Bert knew he'd be plagued with questions if he didn't tell Bentley something to set his mind at ease. He looked into the lake, imagining its waters shaking as Midas approached. "Milton Midas... He's not the kinda guy you'd wanna make friends with."

A third glance over the lake revealed they were being watched. Two sharp eyes gazed from across the river, at him. Bert figured Midas wasn't watching Bentley as much as recognizing him. The 'B' on his sweater seemed like a large target. "Come on." Bert nudged Bentley to start walking back the way they came. "Let's go."

Bentley's expression was all too appropriate; confusion, mixed with some angst. "But I thought we were going to fish here..." Were there any other fishing holes around? A light bulb flashed in his head. A small creek, not too far away, would give them a nice fishing spot for the day.

Even when he tried to think about his friend beside him, Bert could not get the image of Midas' innocent-looking antics out of his head. He sighed. "Not any more, we're not." Bert wanted to cheer up. Now, at least, he had a scoop to chase when he finished playing around with Bentley. Nevertheless he had the urge not to move too far from Midas. Was his inner journalist kicking in?

He snapped out of his thoughts as he felt Bentley shaking his arm. "What's wrong, Bert?" The sound of birds started to flow into his ears, along with Ralph's stern warning from before. There might be a way to follow Midas, and still act like the two were on a fishing trip.

There was a path that would lead him across the river, where they could setup a fishing spot close by, if Midas decided to leave. Bert smirked, and patted Bentley on the back. "Never mind, little buddy. I've got somewhere better to show you!" He was confident in the tone of his voice. Bentley dashed ahead of him, and Bert started to work out the kinks in his master plan. He would not let this opportunity pass him up.

* * *

Bert shook his head, as he tried to follow the truck's progress. "Nope, just a little farther up. I think that truck's going to the fishing hole!" Bert had an angry tone in his voice.

Bentley turned to see Bert. "What's so bad about that?" He asked.

Bert put a hand on Bentley shoulder. "That guy doesn't do anything right. Last time I was fishing with him, he threw a bunch of garbage in the lake!" He hoped his lie would convince Bentley to follow along. "Maybe you can follow me along, like a junior reporter! Doesn't that sound fun?" This would give Bentley a job that he was looking for, and an easy writing piece for him.

"I don't think so, Bert. I like computers and electronics, not journalism." Bert looked at the boy as they continued walking. "I'd like to find a job where I can do those things."

"Let's go see what we can find! We'll have plenty of time for fishing tomorrow."

* * *

Milton Midas brushed his suit. "Let's go!" He was standing outside his transport truck. The 'SMS' on its side might attract undue attention if they stayed here too long. "Get in the truck!" Midas decided that this lake, out of the three he had visited today, was the best. "Gas ain't free, y'know!"

He checked his appearance in the small mirror. His hand came up to tighten his red tie. "Sorry, boss!" Midas' driver, Carl, buckled into the driver's seat. The eagle removed a small notebook from his vest pocket. "Where we headed?" Why did he have to hire such nitwits? Midas thumped his driver several times on the head, and the rat tried to shield himself by holding his green clam shell cap in the direction of his assailant.

Midas eyed his notebook. "Might have to make a quick stop at the Blue Spruce Cafe before we meet with Mister Sneer. We don't want to ruin his precious truck, do we?" The Cafe was close by, and would give him a perfect excuse for tonight.

"But, boss..." Carl said. The truck started, and Midas looked out the glass window as they pulled onto the main road. "I already got the back room reserved!" The back room would give him the best opportunity to not be bothered. A large meal, shush money, and a do not disturb sign would give him ample time to do his dealings that night while his underlings feasted.

The truck came to a stop at a lone dirt road intersection. The eagle looked to either side, expecting to find two raccoons running across the road. "I can't shake those two boys..." The truck bumped and slid on the road. "I swear I saw them before."

Where would they be going? He made another note in his notebook. The grating voice of Carl made him smudge a line. "You want I should do somethin' 'bout 'em?" Carl slapped his hands on the wheel. "I can make both of 'em scream!" This one might be good if things spun out of control.

"What I want you to do, is learn to drive!" Carl tried to dodge his boss' swipes, and ended up veering their truck off the road, into a ditch.

If he managed to make it to Sneer Mansion, he thought to ask Cyril leave to borrow a chauffeur for the night. "...Sorry boss!"

* * *

Since Bert saw Midas, he knew something bad was going to go down. However, the truck pulled the corner, and Bert gave up on catching the truck. He was coughing, now in a cloud of dust.

"Bert..." Bentley said. He looked at the boy, who was holding his knees. He had his hands on his knees. "I don't feel so well." He said. Bert reached over to check the boy's head. It was getting warm, but nothing to worry about. "I wanna go home."

"Come on, Bentley, just a little further." Bert said. The raccoon did not know how much farther he could track the truck, but he wanted to get his story before he headed back.

Ten minutes of looking for the truck, but no luck. They had traveled a way, and Bert decided to check Bentley again. His cheeks were red. This was not a good sign. Friends before a story. He would have to try catching the truck another day.

* * *

Then, an idea hit him. Cedric had medicine at Sneer Mansion. Such a large house must be well-stocked. His friend could always be counted on to help out when he needed it. Bert recalled last week, when Cedric gave him a capsule to fight his fever. "We're going to head up to see Cedric." Bert said.

Bentley looked over at him. "What? Why can't we just cross there?" He pointed in the direction of the trucks. "They'll let us pass, I'm sure."

"I doubt it, little buddy. You'd just get sicker. Besides, Cedric has lots of medicine!"

* * *

Bert looked over his shoulder. His ears picked up on the sound of something approaching very quickly. He grabbed Bentley and went into a group of trees by the side of the path. "What're you doing, Bert?" Bentley jerked his hand away from the raccoon. Who could be coming up the road so fast?

Bentley pushed past Bert, and was nearly to the path, when the vehicle honked its horn at him. The boy fell backwards, and a cloud of dust gathered around, making it hard for Bert to find the boy. Bentley might have inhaled the dust, and gotten himself sicker. The last thing he needed was to carry Bentley the rest of the way to Sneer Mansion. He wanted to ask Bentley if he had seen who drove by so fast. He felt Bentley's hand coming up, and he grabbed it. Bentley started to cough. "You okay, Bentley?" Bert asked. His friend was covered in dirt, and his cheeks were showing a slight shade of red. Now, he had to hurry.

Bert brushed dust off Bentley's shirt. "Yeah... I think so." Bentley said. There were only two reasons for someone to be going so fast; emergency or carelessness. And, if Bert recalled, he had seen someone pretty careless while he was back at the lake.

"Did you see what it looked like?" Bert asked. The boy nodded, and Bert flipped open his notebook in faux-reporter fashion.

"It had 'SMS' written on the side." Bentley said.

Midas' truck headed the same direction they were! It seemed like Bert's report was growing legs and throwing itself on Ralph's desk. The raccoon had to figure out a way to drop off Bentley so he had time to chase the story.

* * *

It was time to let Carl in on Midas' contingency plan. The eagle would not be ruined; not by a boy, not by anyone dumb enough to stumble on his plans. More scribbling in the notebook. He felt the truck come to a stop in one of Sneer's garages. "So... You see anyone along the road?" Midas watched his door swing open, followed by Carl holding the door open for him. Could he handle it?

Midas stepped out. "Yeah, I did."

It wouldn't be pretty, but all his new employees needed to be able to handle this line of work. Midas nudged Carl, who tipped his cap to the approaching pigs. "Hello, boys..." Midas said to the trio. Clouds were gathering over Sneer Mansion as the group entered. One pig ahead of them, and the other two holding open the main doors. He didn't have the time, nor the energy to learn their names, so 'boys' would do. "Tell Mister Sneer I'm ready to do business."

The two were led into a waiting room while the pigs went to get Cyril. "You were sayin' something earlier, boss?"

His plans needed to go smoothly tonight. The meeting, the dinner, and the 'delivery'. Milton Midas looked outside, letting sunlight fall on his feathered face. "Do you know the Raccoons?" Sunlight dimmed as clouds overtook the sky. "I might need you to pay a visit to one of them tonight.

* * *

What was Bentley talking about? Was his sickness getting the better of him? Bert reached over to check Bentley's forehead, but the boy pushed his hand back. "What's the big idea, Bentley? I wanna check if you're getting better!" He tried again, but was again pushed back. "I need to check you to tell how much medicine I should get."

Bentley started to walk away from him, and then stopped before pointing a finger at Bert. "You're not going to get me any medicine, all you wanna do is chase that stupid truck around!" The boy paused to let his echoes die out from the forest. "Admit it! That's why we're going up there!"

Bert wrung his hands together. "That's not... That's not true!" He said.

Bentley took Bert's notebook out of Bert's pocket and flipped through it. "Then why's everything in your notebook about 'SMS'?" Bert swallowed while Bentley pointed at the most recent page. "You lied to me!" With that, Bentley threw Bert's notebook down on the ground.

This was getting out of hand. Bert reached down to pickup his notebook, but Bentley stepped on his hand when he got hold of it. "Let go, Bentley! It's my story!" Anger got the best of Bert Raccoon, and he shoved Bentley. The boy fell, landing on his back.

The boy's eyes pierced into him as he lay on the ground. "I can tell which is more important to you!" Bentley coughed. The boy's cheeks were getting red, but he did not seem to notice. "I'm going home!" He said.

Bert leaned down to him, poking Bentley's down-bent nose with his own. The two stared each other down. "No, you're staying here while I get that medicine!" Bert pushed down on Bentley's shoulders. "I'll be back in a half hour!"

Bentley stood up, and walked to a tree. "Fine! Then prove it to me!" Bentley sat down by a tree, and crossed his hands in a we'll-see gesture.

"Fine! I will!" Bert stomped away from Bentley, towards Sneer Mansion.


End file.
